


Best Left Unremembered

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Dark Castle, F/M, Grief, Pre-Curse, Remembrance, enchanted forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 10:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11311935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin finds Belle crying in the Dark Castle, and as he tries to comfort her, he learns more about both Belle and another incredible woman in her life.For the Monthly Rumbelling prompt: “Bad day, drink, cuddling”





	Best Left Unremembered

**Best Left Unremembered**

Belle was nowhere to be found. Having appeared in the main hall of the Dark Castle, Rumpelstiltskin’s brow furrowed. It was unusual for Belle not to be here in the main hall when he came back from his various deals. More often than not she was waiting at the table with the tea things already laid out; she had quickly understood his schedule and knew that he liked to be back for afternoon tea and cookies. He wasn’t quite sure when afternoon tea and cookies had become such a fundamental part of his daily life. A small part of him surmised that it might have something to do with the fact that afternoon tea was never a luxury that he could afford before he had become the Dark One, and now he had the ability, he was going to indulge in it as much as possible.

Still, although he was slightly put out not to be greeted with freshly baked treats and the soft aroma of delicate bergamot wafting through the castle, he was not entirely perturbed by it. Belle was probably in her library, lost in a good book and therefore completely immune to the passage of time that was going on around her.

“Belle?” he called out, receiving no response. “Where are you?”

Still silence. With a snap of his fingers, he transported himself to the library, but again, this was empty. The only sign that Belle had been in here at all today was a book missing from one of the shelves. Rumpelstiltskin ran his fingers along the heavy, leather-bound spines, and immediately he knew which book Belle had taken. For all the wonderful tomes in the room, there was always one that she kept coming back to. _Her Handsome Hero_ , the book that she had initially brought with her when she had come from her father’s estate to his. Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t at all surprised to find this book missing; he was more surprised by the fact Belle was not sitting on the chaise longue reading it. Still, the throw blanket over the back that she wrapped herself up in on colder afternoons was undisturbed, and there was no indication of where Belle might be instead.

Not in the hall and not in the library, Rumpelstiltskin began to feel a little trepidation. After the Queens of Darkness had managed to get their paws on Belle, he had strengthened the castle’s wards to try and prevent such another occurrence, and Belle had had no reason to be outside today, although he had not prevented her from walking in the castle grounds if she wanted fresh air. He glanced out of the window; the weather was grey and overcast, the odd spot of rain threatening to fall and turn into a downpour. It was not weather suited to outdoor pursuits. Surely no-one could have got inside the castle itself and spirited her away?

Rumpelstiltskin pushed the thought to the back of his mind and shook himself crossly, trying to convince himself that he really wasn’t as worried about Belle’s wellbeing as he actually was, and if he was worried about it, then it was because good help was hard to find and he’d never get a caretaker quite like her again.

Still, it was best to be sure before he started to jump to conclusions, and to that end, Rumpelstiltskin began the painstaking task of combing the castle for his maid’s whereabouts. The next logical place to look was the kitchen; perhaps she had been in the process of making the tea when he had returned and had not realised he was back. But no, there was no sign of her here, and the kettle and stove were cold. She had not been in here since breakfast, clearly.

Rumpelstiltskin wondered. The one place in the castle that Belle was forbidden from entering without his supervision was his workroom in the tower, not out of any kind of desire to keep something incredibly secret from her, but simply because there was so much dangerous magic that could harm her in there.

Rumpelstiltskin knew, however, that his maid was an inquisitive little thing, and it was highly likely that she had broken this rule in the hopes of having an uninterrupted nose around his potions and lotions. With a heavy sigh and a snap of his fingers, Rumpelstiltskin transported himself to the tower, where the first thing that he saw was, indeed, Belle.

“Belle, what have I told you about…”

His voice trailed off when he took in Belle’s aspect. She was sitting on the floor beside his workbench, cuddling her knees to her chest with one of his spellbooks open at her feet, and she was weeping uncontrollably. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t think she’d even noticed his arrival, so deep in her misery she seemed.

“Belle?” he hedged tentatively. Had something gone wrong; had she broken or upset something and was fearful for his reaction, trying desperately to find the correct magic to counter it? He glanced around the room, but nothing seemed to be out of place. “Belle? Whatever is the matter?”

Belle noticed his presence then, and she scrambled up to her feet, grabbing the spellbook and snapping it closed, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

“Oh, Rumpelstiltskin, I didn’t realise you were back, I’ll get back to dusting and…” Her voice was choked, desperately holding back tears, and she tailed off, unable to speak anymore. She went to push past him towards the doorway to the tower, thrusting the book at his chest as she went, but Rumpelstiltskin put a hand on her shoulder to stop her moving. She dutifully stopped, but she did not look up at him. Fresh tears dripped onto the worn cloth cover of the book between them.

“Belle? Why are you crying?”

Belle shook her head. “It’s nothing. Nothing.”

Rumpelstiltskin racked his brains, trying to think about the last time he had seen Belle so very unhappy and what had caused it. He had known her happy and bold for as long as he could remember, except at the beginning when she had been homesick during those first couple of weeks.

“Are you missing your family again?” he asked. Another shake of the head.

“It’s nothing,” Belle repeated, but if she was trying to sound convincing then she was failing woefully.

“Well it’s obviously something. People don’t generally start bawling their eyes out for no reason,” Rumpelstiltskin pointed out. Despite her misery, Belle gave a choked little sob of laughter, and Rumpelstiltskin chanced to put an arm around her, guiding her towards the work bench and pulling out a chair for her. She sat down without protest, wiping her tears on the corner of her apron, and he waved a hand to produce some tea for them, the pot steaming instantly. Another snap of his fingers brought a plate of cookies as well and Belle gave a watery smile.

“My aunts always used to say that a good cup of tea can turn a bad day around,” he said sagely, pouring for both of them and adding a spoonful of sugar and a splash of milk to Belle’s cup, just the way she liked it. The action gave him pause for a moment as she took the cup with muted thanks and began to sip the hot liquid. Since when had he been paying enough attention to Belle to know what her tea preferences were?

“My mother said the same.” Belle blew on the surface of the tea to get it cool enough to drink properly, sending ripples across it. A tear dripped down into the cup. “It’s her birthday today,” she said quietly.

“Ah.” Suddenly, that single sentence explained a lot. “I see.”

The silence between them stretched on for a long time, until Rumpelstiltskin felt compelled to speak again.

“You miss her?”

Belle nodded. “Every day.”

It was at that moment that Rumpelstiltskin chanced to look down at the book that Belle had been weeping over when he had come into the laboratory. It was a tome of spells and potions for affecting memories and memory loss, and he glanced across at Belle.

“What were you doing in here, Belle?” he asked softly, hoping that his tone would not come across as accusatory. There was definitely something that Belle was not telling him, but he could tell that it was not out of any desire to be deceitful, more just a wish to keep it to herself. He really shouldn’t poke his nose in where it wasn’t wanted, but there was something deep inside him that wanted to make Belle smile again. The darkness, of course, was needling him, telling him that she was his maid, that it really didn’t matter if she was happy or sad as long as she kept the castle clean. He pushed that thought down, mentally yelling at the voices in his head to be quiet.

Belle was silent for a long time.

“I can’t remember how she died,” she said eventually, and her hand slid across the table to the book, resting her fingertips on it. “I have so many nightmares about it, all the time. But none of it’s real. I can’t remember what really happened. My mother was a hero, she died to save my life, and I can’t remember her doing it!”

She pressed her hands over her eyes again, rubbing away the new tears. Rumpelstiltskin plucked a handkerchief from the air and offered it to her, scooching a little closer. Belle took it gratefully, drying her eyes and blowing her nose.

“You know, maybe there are some things that are best left unremembered,” he said. “It’s best to remember the happier times, surely.”

He thought of Baelfire, of the many happier times that they had shared back when things had been simpler, and of that terrible final moment when he had let go of his son’s hand and let him fall into the portal alone, never to be seen again. If he could erase that memory from his mind, then he would gladly do so.

“But how can I hope to honour her sacrifice if I can’t remember it?” Belle sniffed. “How can I ever live up to what she did for me? How can I be worthy of something so huge?”

Belle, Rumpelstiltskin was quickly learning, was a very complex young woman. He pushed the book out of the way, out of sight and out of mind.

“Is your mother’s sacrifice why you agreed to come with me?” he asked. “You felt that you could only live up to her sacrifice by sacrificing yourself?”

Belle sighed. “I don’t know. Perhaps. I feel like she saved me so that I could save everyone else. I… I love her so much, and I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“I don’t think that anyone could be disappointed in you, Belle,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I think that you’re far braver than you give yourself credit for.”

Belle snorted. “Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.”

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, thinking of all the times in his life when he had taken the exact opposite approach. For someone so small and fierce, so bold and so defiant, so unafraid to stand up for herself, it made no sense to him that Belle should have such a lack of confidence in this one aspect of her life.

He refilled her teacup from the pot.

“Why don’t you tell me about your mother?” he suggested. “She sounds like a remarkable woman.” It was clear to him now that it was this unseen mother who had instilled so many of Belle’s values into her.

Finally, Belle gave a genuine smile. “Oh, she was. She taught me so much. She taught me to read, and to swim, much to Papa’s consternation…”

Listening to Belle talk about her mother, Rumpelstiltskin didn’t think that he had ever heard her so animated, and even as the sun began to set and he was forced to light the candles so that they could see each other, he continued to listen, entranced, to the stories that she was telling. As she eventually fell silent, he saw that she was smiling once more.

“I should start dinner,” she said presently, standing and brushing down her skirt. Before Rumpelstiltskin could protest, she had thrown her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for listening.”

“You’re very welcome.” Rumpelstiltskin patted her back somewhat gingerly, but although she had taken him by surprise, he could not say that he was uncomfortable with the display of affection, and he felt somewhat bereft when she pulled out of his embrace, slipping away down the tower steps with a shy smile over her shoulder.

At least he had been able to lighten her day a little. A small part of him, not yet given over to the darkness within, preened proudly. He liked seeing Belle smile, and he was going to do it more often.

And if she hugged him in response, then, well, he was sure he could get used to that.

 

 

 

 


End file.
